Pieces of the Past
by Mrs. Data
Summary: Smith breaks, piece by piece.
1. Chapter 1

Pieces of the Past

Disclaimer- Michael Davis and the New Line Cinema studio suits own everything except for the plot which comes from me.

In utter delight the corners of his mouth lifted into a small grin. The vision of Donna bottle-feeding Oliver wasn't new to him, it should have felt mundane. He always found himself gazing at them every time they took part in this natural activity between mother and son. Warmth spread in his chest whenever he caught himself staring. Seeing his family in such a content state almost made him forget about the cold isolated life he once led.

A lock of her long dark hair fell near her eye; with Oliver and his bottle in her hands she was unable to move it. Between his thumb and forefinger he captured the errant hair tucking it behind her ear. The gesture brought a wide smirk to her luminous face. Her silent gratitude was enough for him.

"How's your steak, Smith?" she asked him taking the bottle out of Oliver's mouth and placing him on her shoulder.

"I don't hate it." he flatly answered.

With a small roll of her eyes she replied, "Do you like it?"

"Yes, but it's certainly not the best I've ever had."

"Well that's not too bad. It would suck if you spent money on a shitty steak." she continued to rub Oliver's back.

"You're not wrong about that," he nodded at the sound of his infant son's loud belch, "that's my boy."

After feeling his diaper she told Smith, "Our little boy needs a change," she picked up the diaper bag as she stood up.

"I'm almost done with my steak, I can take him?" he offered.

"No, it's fine. You finish your dinner. Try not to miss us," her lips brushed against his.

"I'll miss you..Oliver," he teased her, barely raising his eyebrows.

"Prick," she shot back.

"Your pet names are so sweet, Darling."

The smile that pulled at her lips was turned into a scowl, "Bastardo."

With a big smirk he said, "I love it when you talk like that."

Shaking her head, she left the table and walked to the restaurant's restroom.

The lovely dinner he was having was interrupted by all too familiar sounds; he cursed. Gunfire followed by screams came from the kitchen causing the patrons in the dining area to drop to the ground. Muttering another curse, he grabbed the steak knife from his plate not breaking his stride towards the kitchen's doors.

A carrot charging towards his eye was the last image the gunman saw before his lifeless body landed on the ground at his feet. The slain shooter's shotgun landed in Smith's hands.

"You see what happens when you don't eat your vegetables?" Smith said while turning to the front entrance where two more gunmen entered.

Without a hint of hesitation, he quickly aimed the shotgun at them and unloaded watching their chests being torn by the rounds. Another shooter emerged from the restroom's corridor; he felt his heart stop when thought of Donna and Oliver.

"Fuck me.." he set down the empty shotgun and immediately threw the steak knife at the gunman.

In absolute shock he looked at the knife in his chest as he fell to the floor.

"Donna!" Smith ran towards the restroom jumping over the dying gunman and entered the ladies bathroom. What he saw took his breath away.

On the beige tile floor Donna's body laid on its side in a puddle of blood. Little Oliver was still in her protective hold. Neither of them was moving.

All his instincts told him to leave, he ignored them clinging to a shred of hope. When he moved her body and saw the truth, he slowly shook his head as his vision became flooded. Streams of sorrow cascaded from his eyes once he closed them; he had hoped to awake from an awful dream. Much like everything else in his life, reality proved to be far more cruel and horrific than his nightmares.

His hands gripped the cold floor bracing himself against the agony and rage that tore at his soul. Every man has his breaking point, he had reached his. A wail of furious lament reverberated from the bathroom.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: **Thanks to everyone who has read this so far! Remember, I have no idea how you feel about this fic until you review, place it under your favorites or subscribe for alerts.

* * *

**Chapter 2**

In a cold sweat he awoke from the nightmare sitting up in bed. Nearly breathless, he wiped away the perspiration. Next to him, Donna turned in his direction opening her eyes.

"Smith? Are you all right, mio amore?" her hand gently gripped his forearm.

He let her hand linger then withdrew his arm, "I'm fine. Just a bad dream."

The way he reacted made her believe there was more to it, "Do you wanna talk about it?"

Shaking his head he replied, "It's nothing."

Oliver's cry came through the baby monitor.

"I got it." he told her as he slowly swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up.

"You sure? What time is it?"

"I'm already up. You're home all day with him, you need your rest."

It was early and she was too tired to say what was really on her mind, "Thank you."

He simply nodded and walked out.

* * *

"Daddy's here, Oliver sshhh," he picked up the crying three-month-old and checked his dry diaper.

His little lips suckled on the bottle's nipple.

With Oliver in his warm embrace, he sat down on the rocking chair gazing down at his son. The image of a slain Donna holding him flashed in his mind, he closed his eyes trying to erase it. His lips softly pressed against the infant's forehead.

"I love you.." he whispered.

From the master bedroom Donna listened to them through the baby monitor. A sad smile touched her mouth, it was the first time she had heard him say those three words to either of them. As foolish as it seemed, she was a little jealous that their son was the first person to hear it from him.

* * *

In the kitchen Smith, Donna and Oliver ate breakfast while Scarface played on the television. With their son's stare focused on Al Pacino increasing his kill count, Donna took the opportunity to speak to Smith.

"We've been together for three months, Smith." she set down her cup of coffee.

He looked up from his plate, "And?"

"And I still don't know your real name."

Searching her face, he asked a question he already knew the answer to, "Do you trust me?"

There wasn't a trace of reluctance in her voice and eyes, "With my life."

The sincerity in her response was enough for him, "Fawkes..Fawkes Smith."

In mild amusement her brows slightly lifted, "That's your real last name."

Nodding, he added, "My old man always said, 'Guy Fawkes was a lot of things, a pussy wasn't one of them.'"

A light scoff came from her, "You're definitely his son…Where is he now?"

After clearing his throat, he decided to tell her the truth, "Twelve years ago, he and my mother got into a..a car accident. A drunken bastard crashed his rich daddy's car into my parents. The little prick only got community service." His gaze narrowed in anger and grief, his mouth was straight.

Now she understood his hatred for the wealthy and privileged, "I'm sorry," she rested her hand on his.

Although his hand remained still, he quietly appreciated the gesture, "It wasn't your fault."

Her fingers curled over his, "I'm sorry that it happened to you."

He simply shrugged, "It's life. That wasn't the first or the last time it kicked me in the balls."

Tilting her head she shared, "My mama died a few years after we moved here. I was fifteen."

He hadn't realized how little he knew of the woman he loved, "What happened?"

"Stage four breast cancer," she glanced down at her mug before looking at him and grinned, "she was a very good woman. My father and I loved her very much."

His fingers finally grasped her hand.

The sensation of his touch encouraged her, "After she died, he drank a lot..he became a miserable man. One night, he-," she felt her breath hitch in her chest and her eyes water but she pressed on, "he came into my bedroom and forced himself on top of me. He said that..that I should stop fighting because this was what good girls did for their fathers."

He took her into his arms, and pressed his forehead against hers. Words couldn't describe how he felt for her; he hoped his actions were enough.

Her hands linked behind his neck. After sniffling a few times she spoke again, "I grabbed the lamp and hit him on the head as hard I could. He was passed out, still alive. So I took what money he had, packed my clothes and lived on the streets until I met my first pimp."

"Your father..he never came after you?"

Shaking her head she answered, "He didn't know how to find me. I don't want him too, ever."

In menacing low voice he told her, "I'll blast his fucking brains out if he does."

Most women would have been horrified at such a statement, she wasn't. Unlike those women's lovers, she knew that he would uphold the threat. His willingness to protect her and Oliver at any cost made her feel truly loved.

"I know you will..You get that from your father, don't you?"

A smirk passed his lips, "The old man was one tough sonofabitch."

The question that had been on her mind ever since he saved her and Oliver from Hertz escaped her lips, "Was he the one who taught you how to shoot?"

"Yeah," he muttered and withdrew from her, "I have to get ready for work."

"In a half hour, Smith!" she stood in front of the corridor blocking his way.

He glared at her, "Well I'm not gonna sit on my ass all day and swap sob stories!"

"I wanna know more about you! Why won't you talk about your past?"

The truth was, it pained to even think about his past but he wasn't going to let her know that, "Why do you wanna know? What is the fucking point, Donna? It happened, it's over!"

With her arms folded she set her jaw, "Because I'm in love with you! I wanna know everything about you because all I've seen is the man that you are but who you were is a part of you. And it's still haunting you, Smith! Last night was the third nightmare you've had ever since we've made this life together. Just tell me.."

He hadn't expected her to be so intuitive; he still refused to let her in, "Exactly! What we have now is great, why isn't that enough for you?" He heard a brief quiver in his last comment and mentally cursed at himself.

The tremor in his voice stunned her; she reached out and held his hands. In a soft tone she spoke to him, "I don't need a license or even a ring from you to prove your loyalty to me. You already have. All I need from you is-is to open your heart to me no matter how painful it is. That's what intimacy is, sharing everything so that we can help each other grow and become stronger together."

Even though he knew that every word she said was right, he couldn't bring himself over the threshold to where she wanted him to be. The pain was too much for him to confront.

"Smith…" she looked at him with gentle eyes.

In a low voice he said, "I'm gonna be late," he let go of her hands and headed to the bathroom. After closing the door, he rested his head against it and sighed.

She felt her heart sink as he closed the door.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: **Thanks so much for the review Dahlia! I appreciate so much for many reasons. I don't know how people feel about this fic until they make it known by either revewing, subscribing or favoriting it. It thrills me to hear that you rarely review because it means that I'm doing something right! I was unsure because my fics are the only ones in the Shoot 'Em Up forum. Thanks again! There are two chapters left of this story.

**Chapter 3**

At the computer desk Donna spoke to a customer and successfully made a sale worth over a hundred dollars. Smith waited until she was finished to enter the living room. The awkward tension was palpable with them avoiding eye contact.

"Oliver, be good a boy for your mother," he bent down in front of the bouncer and kissed his forehead, "I'll be home at six."

Her eyes remained on the computer screen, "Have a good day at work, Smith."

With a nod, he walked out of the living room.

When he returned she looked at him with confused eyes. A light gasp came from her mouth at the feel of his forehead against hers. His mouth tenderly captured her lips; it was first time he had kissed her before leaving for work. Underneath her soft hand she felt the stubble on his handsome face.

He placed his hand on top of hers, "I'll see you tonight. Bye."

Hope swelled in her heart, "Ciao, amore mio."

* * *

Two days after, neither of them had shared anything from their pasts. Donna took it upon herself to change that. Just as Smith came through the door she hanged a small photo above the fireplace.

"I'm back." He announced closing the front door behind him and hanged his coat on the rack.

"Welcome home Smith," she greeted him with a lingering kiss.

His hands held her waist, "I could get used to that," he smirked.

"I refuse to spoil you," she shook her head and asked, "How was your day?"

"My boss says we're probably gonna finish this project earlier than expected."

"Which means?"

"A bonus and a few days off before we get to work on the Stockton building," he tucked a stray hair behind her ear.

"That's very good," she smiled, "I made five sales today."

"Not bad..I don't think that foo foo French company can keep up with the rate that you're going at."

She tapped his chest and accepted the compliment, "Stop, they help pay the bills..but thanks."

He looked into her eyes, "Where's Oliver?"

"Watching Die Hard with Duchess in our bedroom."

The framed photo caught his attention, "What's that?" he led them to the fireplace.

With a prideful smile she answered, "It's me and my mama. I was six-months-old."

The resemblance between them was uncanny, both were stunningly beautiful.

"I always carried that photo with me..it feels like I have a piece of her," she gazed at the photo.

"You're a dead ringer for her…"

"Thank you, she was a very beautiful loving woman," her hand brushed his cheek.

"Although I must say, I've seen cuter babies.." he teased her.

"Shut up Smith!" she playfully slapped his arm.

"I'm just fuckin' with ya," he grinned then heard Oliver cry.

"It sounds like someone wants to see his daddy," she picked up the basket of clean laundry off the couch.

"I'm on it," he waited for her to step in front of him and slapped her full backside, "now I know where you got your sweet back door."

A look of fake disgust came to her face, "You're whacked."

"I am but you're with me. Says a lot about you, doesn't it?" he shot back.

In a slow pace she leaned her face towards his, "I'm the only who can deal with your bullshit. Never forget that."

He went in for a kiss but was denied when she moved her head back, "You know what I hate? When you do that."

Her smile was smug as she passed him, "I have to put Oliver's clothes away..and if you're good during dinner, I might let you punish me for dessert."

"Is that a promise or a tease?" he called out.

"You'll find out later tonight." she gave him a sultry look then went into Oliver's room.

He felt annoyed, intrigued and frustrated by her, he loved it.

Oliver cried again for him.

"I'm coming, don't get your diaper in a bunch," he said while making his way to their bedroom.

* * *

As she fed Oliver, Smith lowered the volume on the television receiving her attention.

"We've been living here for three months," he began to speak to her, "why did you hang up that photo today?"

"Because you told me about your father.." she told him.

He searched her face sensing that she was keeping something from him, "Is that the only reason?"

"Should it be?"

From the way she looked at him, he knew it wasn't, "My mother was a nurse when she met my father and she went back to work when I was a few months old."

She leaned forward, "What kind of a woman was she?"

A vision of his mother smiling came to his mind as he spoke, "She was funny, smart, loving and unbelievably patient. But it was a mistake to cross her or anyone she loved. There was a little prick that picked on me when we went to the playground. She went right up to her his mother and threatened to pummel both of them if her son didn't stop being a little asshole. The mother brushed my mum off, she got a fat lip and black eye. She promptly grabbed me and we went home before the police came. As we drove home she told me that it's all right to give certain people their comeuppance," he scoffed.

"She sounded like an incredible woman."

"She was but she couldn't cook for shit. My father teached her though," he reached out touching Oliver's chubby cheek.

After a few seconds she decided to ask the question that was on her mind, "What did he do for a living?"

He froze then answered; "He was a gunsmith and he owned a shop where he sold his guns and others…" he barely shifted in his seat but didn't get up.

"So he did teach you how to shoot," she nodded.

Nodding he stated, "He was a master marksman, so were his father and grandfather."

"It runs in your genes."

"Looks like," his grin was rueful.

"So.." she glanced at her plate then at him, "you worked in his shop?"

Clearing his throat and the hesitation he felt he said, "After I finished being a Navy SEAL, I became a mercenary but..it-it didn't last long. Then I took over the shop after my parents died," he stopped talking not wanting to share anymore.

What he had revealed pleased her, she didn't want to press her luck. Past experience taught her not to push him too far. Her lips planted a grateful kiss on his mouth.

A small grin touched his lips as he stroked her hair.

That night they made love and for the first time, he held her close to him after they finished. Instead of speaking, she simply rested her arm on his savoring the moment.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Almost two weeks had passed since he told her about his parents and anything related to his former life. It surprised him to see how she hadn't pushed him further into revealing more about his past. Then he looked back at how she took the initiative to share herself with him, he realized that it wasn't fair. The woman he loved deserved to receive as much as she put into their relationship. He knew he wasn't doing his part by keeping the most horrible day of his life to himself. Even though it terrified him; he decided that it had to be done. She had told him about her dark painful past; it was time for him to disclose his.

"Good girl," Smith petted Duchess's head. She finished her dinner and joined him and Donna in the living room where they watched television in each other's embrace.

The loyal canine settled on her bed in front of the couch where her owners sat.

Smith brushed his foot on Duchess feeling her warm soft fur between his toes and his bare flesh, "Duchess isn't my first pet."

"Really?" Donna asked him. "Let me guess, you had a rabbit but gave it away because you fought over carrots," she smirked.

"No you smart ass," he lightly tapped her backside, "I had two dogs."

It was first time he had willingly shared something about himself with her, she cautiously chose her words, "What were their names?"

"The first was when I was six, he was a chocolate Labrador named Benton," wistful smile spread across his face,"he was a great dog. We went almost everywhere together. He was my best mate, all he wanted from me was..to play and take care of him."

"What happened to him?" her hand rested on his.

With a small shrug he told her, "He died of old age."

She slowly nodded, "How about your other dog?"

His stare briefly went to the floor before meeting her gaze, "He was a black lab named Colt. I got him when he was a pup…with my wife, Amelia."

The revelation he shared caused her to pull her head back. A part of her wanted to question why he was talking about his past now but she decided against it fearing that he would shut down. Through her shock she managed to ask, "How did you meet?"

He held her close, "It was six years ago, we met at the bookstore she owned. It was a few feet from my father's shop."

"What kind of a woman was she?"

"She had a kind heart, brilliant and she was very funny. Even if she didn't get a joke, she'd still laugh. The way she did things was always well planned and meticulous. She was a perfectionist. Even though she knew that perfection was impossible, I loved how she strived for it because it meant that she wasn't a quitter," he grinned.

Her hand briefly stroked the side of his face, "And quitters are one of the many things you hate. Please, tell me more about Amelia...what did she look like?"

"Well, she had the most stunning ice blue eyes, the darkest hair and an infectious laugh that no one could resist," it somehow pleased and pained him to remember the sound of her laugh.

It was brief but the look on his face was a mix of content and sorrow, she considered whether or not she should ask another question.

He sensed where her line of questioning was going, "We had one son..Nate. He was named after my father."

A part of her was stunned but the other half wasn't. During the time where they saved Oliver, there were signs of his paternal past. He knew how to care for a child and even though it piqued her interest, she never asked him about it. From the way he spoke of Amelia and Nate in the past tense, she knew that they were no longer alive. The man she loved would never abandon those he loved without a fight. Still, she was unsure of how probing her next question should be.

Smith appreciated how she wasn't pushing him and continued to reveal more. "When he was born, he barely cried..he was just so..serene." The vision of Nate's face made him smile.

"Did he look like you?" she held his hand.

"He had my nose, and coloring. Luckily he got his mother's eyes and smile."

Her full pink lips pulled into a grin, "What kind of a child was he, Smith?"

"He was the happiest boy..he was curious about everything and loved to play. Like his mother, he loved to laugh and…" Memories of him and Amelia playing with Nate flashed through his mind then he thought of the last morning he spent with them. He stopped speaking.

When he didn't finish what he was saying, she became concerned and gently squeezed his hand hoping that her touch would encourage him top open up more.

Despite the support he was getting from Donna, he felt the familiar pangs of grief and anger begin to pull at him as he remembered police officers coming into the shop to tell him of what had happened to Amelia and Nate during their lunch.

"Smith?" she finally spoke.

The sound of his voice brought him out of his head and into the present but even then he couldn't bring himself to speak of the past.

"Just tell me…" her free hand cupped his face.

"I-I'm tired," he let go of her and stood up.

Desperate to make him continue she remained on the couch but got on her knees and grabbed his hand, "Please, you were doing were so well don't do this."

The image of Amelia and Nate's slain bodies briefly came through his mind, he closed his eyes and shook his head, "I'm sorry..I can't," he let go of her hand and headed for the bathroom. Once he was inside, he sat on the toilet and held his head in his hands. Disappointed and angry with himself, he held back his tears pushing the awful images that tried to resurface into the back of his head.

A low groan of frustration and despair left her lips as she watched him walk away.

* * *

Later that night, she got into bed and saw that he was still awake staring at the ceiling. Even though their conversation ended in a setback, she was satisfied to see the strides he had made.

He turned his head to her and in a curt voice he asked, "What?"

"I didn't say anything."

"You're looking at me like you want to."

She knew he was right and placed her chin on his bare chest, "I know that you don't think so..but you did well tonight Smith."

"I don't need your pity," he shot back.

"It's the truth, I don't believe in bullshit especially when it comes to you. Good night amore," she kissed him before turning away.

Her support and understanding moved him; he rolled over placing his arm around her. Then he whispered what he needed from her, "Time…"

A grin briefly formed on her full lips as she looked into his eyes, "I will.." she caressed his face.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note:** Thanks so much timmyd and Dahlia for your reviews! This isn't a very active forum so I am thrilled whenever anyone leaves reviews on either fics. Timmyd, you are just too sweet and your support means everything. Dahlia, I truly cherish your kind words especially since you rarely leave reviews. Reading what you wrote makes me feel a great sense of pride. After this chapter, there is only one left. Thanks again for the great feedback!

* * *

A week later nothing had progressed between them, she decided take matters into her control.

As he changed Oliver's diaper, Smith sensed her enter the room.

"How's our little boy?" she asked him while touching Oliver's chubby cheek and smiled when he cooed.

"He's been fed and his ass is clean. He's in pure baby bliss," he finished putting on the diaper.

"Everything is simple at that age.." she put his jeans on and picked him up.

"Tell me about it, I'm dreading his teenage years where he'll be pissed off just by being around us. But it could be worse."

"How so Smith?"

"At least he's not a girl."

She lightly bumped his hip with hers, "Little girls are precious and we both that if we had one she would be no more trouble than Oliver."

A doubtful scoff came from him, "If she looks like you trouble will find her. Then I'll have to get a piece to stop all the little bastards from getting into her knickers."

Her eyes rolled, "Same old Smith.."

"Don't forget about Oliver, he'll kick those pricks asses when I'm at work," he smirked as he touched his son's face.

"Of course he will." she led the way to the kitchen where lunch was waiting for them.

* * *

Following a sip from her glass of wine she spoke, "My baby was a girl."

His eyes immediately went to her; she had never spoken in great detail about her first pregnancy, "How far along were you?"

"Almost seven months," she looked down at her plate then back at him. "I didn't name her..I thought there would be enough time," her voice quivered.

His heart ached for her; he reached out and grasped her hand.

With both hands she held his, "When she was stillborn, I thought I was..I was being punished for being a whore."

"Donna..you know that's not.."

She interrupted him, "I know that now but not back then. When I found out I was pregnant I thought about getting rid of it. After a few days I saw the baby as my chance for a better life, so I quit turning tricks and ran away from my pimp. I had enough money saved for the baby so I got a job selling lingerie and went back to school to get my GED. But he found me..you know what happened."

In puzzlement he looked at her, "Why didn't you keep on that path?"

"I was doing it for my daughter because she deserved it..but I didn't. I hated myself just like you," her dark glistening eyes gazed into his.

Her words rang true; he hated himself ever since that horrible day. It was then he realized that he hadn't entirely stopped feeling that way.

"I began to forgive myself when Oliver and I got onto that bus with all those hippies. Do you know why?"

He simply shook his head.

"I didn't think I had anything to live for but as the bus started driving I looked back at my life. The horrible things that happened to me, most of weren't my fault and the ones that were couldn't be undone. I realized that punishing myself was wrong. You and Oliver..I fell in love with you two that cold night. You both just came into my life without warning but I'm grateful that it happened," her hands held his face.

"Why?"

Her grasp was firm yet her hands were soft, "Because you both made me realize what I should have known all along. I'm worthy and deserving of true love because I'm a flawed but good woman. Life will have its joys and tragedies. What matters is that we embrace it with all our strength and love because it's worth it."

Even though he knew what she was saying made sense, he couldn't bring himself to say what was needed, "It's..it's hard for me and I hate it because I need to be strong for us. I know that I-I.."

"Smith, no one can be strong all the time, that's what makes us human," she gazed at him with understanding eyes and spoke again, "I know that you lost Amelia and Nate."

With a curious stare he asked, "How?"

"You're a lot of things Smith, a coward isn't one of them. But I won't force you tell me what happened, not until you're ready.".

His lips formed into a brief smirk, he couldn't help but love her even more than he already did, "How are you certain that I will?"

With her forehead pressed against his she answered, "Because you're a strong man who always does what's right even when you don't want to. That's the kind of man we want Oliver to become."

On the back of her neck his fingers rested. He told her what she already knew but needed to hear, "I love you."

Her heart nearly burst with joy upon hearing those words come from him, "I know and…finally!"

"Great, now you're spoiled," he teased her and then felt her hand lightly tap his chest.

"Bastardo."

They simply grinned at one another.


	6. The End

Author's note: Thanks timmy and Dahlia once again. I cherish your reviews and the time you take to write them. I am grateful to everyone who has read this story from start to end, as well. I was unsure if you guys were out there since I seem to be the only writer who is active in this fandom. To know that you're here means so much to me and the fans of this awesome movie.

* * *

It was almost a week later; they had just put Oliver to sleep for the night. Their hands were clasped as they left his room and went into theirs. After she finished washing her face and brushing her teeth, she slid underneath the blanket. Resting her head on his shoulder and with her arm are over his bare chest, she watched the nightly news with him. In turn, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. When he turned off the television he looked at her and didn't start speaking until her stare met his.

"Nate was four when it happened. That morning, we had played with his favorite ball in the yard before I left for the shop." He briefly closed his eyes, the scent and feel of his first child was still fresh in his mind.

She held him close, "What were your last words to them?"

"What I always said to them….'Have a good day and be safe. I love you both, goodbye."

It was then she understood why it had taken him so long to say those words to her and Oliver.

A long exhale came from him before he spoke again, "We were..we were supposed to meet at our usual diner for lunch like we always did. They arrived first and Amelia would wait to eat until I joined them. Nate always ate the same thing as they waited..chicken nuggets."

A slow breathe came from her mouth, "What happened Smith?"

He cleared his throat, "I was running late and just as I was about to close the shop, the officers came. The diner's busboy had been fired weeks before because of his erratic behavior. He had lashed out at the customers and employees.

So..that morning he walked into the diner and shot everyone inside before blowing his brains out. There were…no one survived," he pushed those words out of his mouth.

Her big doe eyes glisten with tears of sympathy, her hold on him tightened, "I'm sorry that happened to you Smith," she stroked his face.

The look in her gaze made him feel ashamed; he viewed it as pity even though he knew it wasn't. What he had to say next scared him because he feared that she would hate him as much as he did.

From the expression on his face she could tell he was struggling with his next choice of words, "Smith?"

The familiar feelings of guilt, rage and grief begin to suffocate him. He despised himself as he got up to leave the room not wanting to finally confront those emotions, except he couldn't. Donna blocked his path and held his face.

"Donna let me go," he tried to pull away from her but her grasp was unyielding.

"No Smith! Not until you say it!"

"WHY?" He nearly wailed and loathed himself upon hearing the desperation in his voice.

Her hands brought his face to her, "Because you can't heal until you do."

After a moment he took a hold of her waist as he finally let his walls crumble down exposing his broken soul to her.

"I sold him the shotguns..That piece of shit pulled the trigger but my family and those innocent people would still be alive if it weren't for me!" He cried out then bawled on her shoulder releasing years of turmoil through his tears.

In empathetic pride she wept with him before lifting his face from her shoulder, "You can't punish yourself for what that horrible man did."

"It's my fault! Don't you see that?"

"He was gonna kill those people whether you sold him those guns or not. What he did-he couldn't cope and blamed others for his mistakes. It was his failure to be a man, NOT YOURS. Understand?"

He slowly nodded pressing his forehead against hers, "I-I'm just afraid of it happening again.."

That's when it dawned on her, "Your nightmares?"

"Yeah," he inhaled, "I couldn't stand losing you two."

A small smile spread across her face while she moved her hand over his heart, "You'll never lose us, le nostre anime saranno sempre con voi perché il vostro è con noi."

With wry grin he replied, "I didn't understand a damn word you just said..but thanks."

The tips of her delicate fingers wiped away his tears, she smiled at him, "Our souls are always with you because yours is always with us."

With a deadpan look he stated, "That was my first guess."

Rolling her eyes she began to say, "Tell me Smith, do you ever stop being a smarta-.." his kiss cut off her sentence and she didn't mind one bit.

Smith knew that she deserved more than a kiss for breaking through to him. For the time being, he savored the taste of her soft sweet lips hoping that it would suffice.

* * *

During the last days of winter spring began teasing its arrival with temperatures in the mid sixties while the sun made sporadic appearances. Smith and Donna decided to take advantage of the weather by bringing Oliver and Duchess to the park.

"Come Duchess, lunch!" Smith hollered to the happy canine causing her to follow him while still holding a Kong ball in her mouth.

Donna welcomed them both once they approached the picnic table where she finished setting up their lunch. When Duchess dropped her ball in the compartment underneath Oliver's carriage, Donna petted her head and fed the obedient hound a Crunch Snax treat before sitting next to Smith.

"Come on little boy, burp for your mama," Donna rubbed the Oliver's back

The five-month-old's belch was so loud that even Duchess briefly stopped eating her lunch to look at him.

"Good boy," she wiped his mouth and kissed his cheek before placing him back in the carriage.

"Are you full?" Smith asked her just as he finished his sandwich and threw away the wrapper into a nearby trash can.

"Until dinner, why do you ask Smith?" she turned to him.

"I wanted to know if I could offer you anything," he reached into his leather coat's inner pocket. "Carrot?"

Her eyebrows curiously creased until she saw a platinum ring on the orange vegetable.

A wide smirk came across his face when he saw her dark eyes grow large as she removed the ring from the carrot, "Inside." He told her.

She read the engraving inside the ring welcoming her tears of joy, "Amore mio. Oh Smith…"

He took the ring from her hand and slid it onto her finger then held her hands, "I know that you said you didn't need it..but you more than deserve it. There's no one else who could deal with my bullshit and still love me like you do."

Her head modestly shook, "You've done the same for me."

"Donna..I was a broken man and I still was after we got together. I rescued you from Hertz but you were the one who saved me by showing me that I wasn't nothing. That I was a good man. You made me realize that I was deserving of the incredible life that we have together."

"Because of you.." her hand briefly stroked his face.

His head slowly shook, "You provide so much to this family and me..more than any man could ever want or even dare to imagine."

Crying, she felt her spirit soar. She took hold of his face, "I love you Smith."

"I love you too..Now get your sweet back door over here," he pulled her onto his lap.

In absolutely elation their mouths met as they relished in the warm embrace of their love. Through time, patience, and understanding, they put together the pieces of their broken pasts building a strong foundation for their future.


End file.
